The Muggle Way
by ParanoiaSerf
Summary: PAUSED Draco Malfoy is lost in New York City with no magic. Where does he find help? From a mudblood, of course. A stir in the magical world. Something wicked this way comes...
1. Something wicked this way comes

**Author's Note:**

Wow, here I go. My first fanfic. You'll have to forgive my chapter title. Aftershock of the 3rd movie. I was supposed to write a Hermione/Draco fanfic thing but I haven't formulated a proper plot for them yet, not to mention I'm kind of a rookie where the Harry Potter series is concerned so I decided to stick with what I know. Hope I do the real thing justice. Apologies to New Yorkers as I'll probably get a bit of the geography wrong. Would gladly welcome help with directions (and probably some of the Latin too) Appreciate any and all reviews. Thanks for reading!

* * *

**THE MUGGLE WAY**

**Something wicked this way comes**

He brushed past her nonchalantly.

Sierra Davenport was knocked slightly to one side and glanced up briefly but she was too busy rifling over her papers to be offended _or _to register that one such as he should not be in such a place in the first place. "Oh, hello, Malfoy," she muttered carelessly before she went on with her business.

Draco Malfoy stopped in mid-stride as soon as he passed her and looked back, his forehead creased. He wasn't aware that he knew anyone in the building. He wasn't aware that he knew anyone in the _country_. "Do I know you?" he prompted haughtily.

Sierra slowed down in walking, seeing nobody else in the hallways. She turned around questioningly. "Sorry?" she asked.

"How do you know who I am?" he asked. Draco was certain everyone in the _magical world_ would be aware of who he was but not in the muggle world. Certainly not in such an unfamiliar place such as this.

She blinked at him skeptically. _How could she_ notShe thought and then realized he probably didn't recognize her. _Of course._ She just shrugged plainly. "Uh, we went to school together," she said as-a-matter-of-factly. "Hogwarts…?" she supplied.

Draco raised an eyebrow. She knew about Hogwarts. She was a witch then. But she didn't look the slightest bit familiar. And _what _was she doing here? In a library. In _America_.

"I'm Sierra Davenport—well, Willowbrook if you wanna get technical," she relayed. She narrowed her eyes when he still looked vague. "I was a Slytherin too," she informed him. "Only we didn't quite move around in the same social circles."

He blinked. "Oh." Then he nodded in affirmation. She would be. He'd hardly bothered in getting to know the other students back then anyway, even in his own house. As long as everyone knew who _he _was, if _he _knew _them _was irrelevant.

She watched him strangely. He seemed to still be trying to get his bearings. "Uh are you lost or something?" she asked.

He blinked at her again then shook his head firmly. "Of course not," he replied. "I was just—looking around," he fibbed unconvincingly with a nonchalant shrug.

"In the…library…?" she prompted, giving him a curious look and a once over. Draco Malfoy was casually dressed, as if he should be outside, in his neat, crisp clothing, looking very much like a young British aristocrat, the same as she remembered but slightly older. Apparently, he'd grown into his looks. Same white blond hair, pale gray-blue eyes. Sierra remembered quite a lot of girls fawning over him at school, not so many years ago. She would imagine they still did now and more so. Draco shot her an offended what-do-you-care-it's-my-business look.

She raised her hands up in defeat quickly, as well as she could with her arms full of books and loose pieces of papers. "Fine, fine," she backed away. "Shutting up," she said then went on her way.

* * *

Draco watched her leave, still frowning. It didn't please him to be as disoriented as he was. It certainly didn't help his reputation—or the reputation he was going to have to manage while he was here. He kicked at the side of a bookcase frustratedly then his eyes widened in dread as the bookcase shook as if to tip over. At the tip of his tongue was _Immobilus!_ his hand fumbling in his pocket for his wand, but then he bit his tongue as he remembered, _No magic_. Upon his aunt's request, his wand was still tucked away safely inside his suitcase that he hadn't even bothered to unpack back at the manor.

Fortunately, only several books toppled down from the bookcase, not the whole thing itself, disturbing the layer of dust on the floor. Draco groaned in distaste, then looked around cautiously too see if anybody had seen him before he continued walking down the hall, ignoring the books scattered on the floor.

If only Veronica hadn't been particularly persistent that Draco and his mum come to America to meet her mother's relatives, he wouldn't even be here in the first place. But apparently making nice with the future-in-laws was imperative if the union of the two wizard bloodlines was to be successful.

Draco rolled his eyes. If only _Veronica _wasn't such a whiny, spoiled little prat, it wouldn't have been necessary for him to duck out on her and therefore find himself lost in the middle of mudblood country. His only hope was if Veronica happened to step into the library to find him. _Much hope with that_, he thought knowingly. He himself had only mistaken this building for a museum before he realized it was more like a damn labyrinth.

He made a face as he passed rows and rows of dust-collecting books. He didn't know how these pathetic little muggles managed to even find a book in the midst of all this without a spell or a summon. He shook his head to himself in ridicule wandering into another section of the library where there were bookcases as tall as the ceiling, rows of desks, and muggles quietly reading.

Draco realized, the perpetual frown on his face deepening, that he might actually have to speak to one of them to ask for directions. Then he spotted that girl from before and casually stepped behind another bookcase to be out of plain sight.

She was seated at a table across the room, looking very comfortable, looking very much like a regular muggle, and looking very busy reading books and taking down notes. He couldn't fathom why any witch would possibly want to live in such a non-magical world as this.

* * *

Sierra was busy. She wasn't anywhere near done with this research, was on flunking alert from class from way too many absences, on firing alert from her part-time job, something she couldn't very well afford since she was also flat broke.

But even though there were times she wished she was back in London where she lived with her mom before the divorce—London, where everything was in order, everything taken cared of, everything to be done a certain way, everything neat as a pin—Sierra absolutely _loved _New York. She was born here and found most of the qualities of city living in the free world to her advantage.

Over here, most nobody cared about anybody else's business, which suited her present needs very well. And this week was turning out to be worse than she thought but it could easily get worse any minute, which was why she needed to finish this research as soon as possible. Her forehead creased at her reading.

_…and the armor of snow shall shine…woe to the dragon for his banishment hastens on…_

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a speck of white move and glanced up to see Draco Malfoy stepping back warily from a tall bookcase from which several books seemed to have dislodged and were looking to make a drop right on top of him. She looked around suspiciously with a crease in her forehead as these New York Public Library bookcases were the heavy oak types, especially these ceiling-high ones in the reading area, adding to it the ton of books it shelved should've made it impossible to move—by muggle standards, that is.

Sierra cautiously slipped her wand out of her backpack, pointed it at the direction of the bookcase and called out her spell. _"Pristinum status incognito!"_

Instantly the books went back to their original state.

"Sssshhhh!" came the automatic disapproving hiss of the librarian and Sierra winced. But then she looked around the room to see if anyone else had seen what had happened and smirked in satisfaction when nobody seemed to notice or seemed to care that a whole bookcase would have toppled over in the room where the bookcases were spaced only a few meters apart and would have therefore all come crashing down domino-style if even one tipped over. She slipped her wand back into her bag and continued with her reading.

After seven years in Hogwarts, then going back to the "real" world, the divorce, other exasperating aspects of life like college and other worldly problems quickly took over Sierra's life. There was just hardly the proper place for magic amidst the cramming and midterms and traffic and being broke. Apart from the occasional time to do chores when magic came indispensable, she'd easily gotten used to the muggle way of doing things again. Magic was a tiny comfort in the modern age.

Not to mention the rule to keep a tight lid on magic recently. The Ministry would most certainly not be happy to know she was practicing magic in public places again. But then again, Sierra rationalized, nobody cared. She was sure anyone who might have heard her spell earlier would have assumed she was just babbling or talking to herself. But then there was a stir in the magical communities in the city—the Diagon Alley of New York in the East Village. Something was up. Sierra just didn't know exactly what.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

(sigh of relief) Aaahh! How was that? Comments please!

Thanks to my sister for doing beta on this chapter. She's more advanced in the Harry Potter ladder of fanfic writing than I am.  
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	2. Certainly not in London

**Author's Note:**

Oh my god, thanks for the all the great reviews! I'm so glad you all liked it. I might actually get somewhere with this kind of encouragement. (whew) I was kind of worried there for a while. Hehe... Only now I have to live up to your raves! Hope I don't disappoint! And now on to the next chapter. Thanks for reading!

**Disclaimer:** (I forgot to put one of these) I don't know if J.K. Rowling had any precedents about the magic practices in the U.S. Other than that, this is fanfiction .net, ipso facto, canon characters (except Sierra Willowbrook, whom I made up) and other such aspects are obviously not mine.

* * *

**Certainly not in London**

Draco cast the girl a strange look. _Practicing magic out in the open for all the muggles to see_, he noted, raising an eyebrow. It most certainly wasn't allowed back in London. Not to mention the spell she had used was one he'd never even heard of before. It certainly wasn't the kind of magic he remembered being taught at Hogwarts. Nonetheless…_Magic_. Draco walked over as if drawn by it as surely she was the only one of the mob that he could possibly risk asking for help.

Sierra only paused from reading when Draco was already standing right beside her table. She looked up at him over the rim of her glasses and raised her eyebrows in question. "Yes?"

It didn't please Draco to have to ask for assistance—from anyone. It gave most people the false impression that they were better than him. He looked down his nose at her. "I need to get to Park Avenue," he said airily.

Sierra blinked then closed her book slowly. "Yes?" she prompted again, expectantly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "So I need to get to Park Avenue and I don't know where it is," he repeated.

"And…?" she asked yet again, raising her eyebrows pointedly.

"And what?" he echoed irritably. "Are you going to give me directions or not?"

Sierra bit her lip to keep from laughing at his obvious discomfort. "It's not hard you know. To ask for help I mean," she stated. She was used to stuffy stuck-up types. Malfoy was no different and not any more difficult to handle than the jerks she knew in college.

He gave her a steady glare. "Look, you're either going to help me or not. Which is it?" he asked impatiently.

She gave him a look of incredulity then shrugged before turning back to her reading.

Draco clenched his jaw. _Great. Just great._

She glanced up at him briefly between texts with a narrow-eyed look. "This isn't England, you know? This isn't Hogwarts," she reminded him. "Not everyone here worships you and they certainly don't need to follow your orders," she said as-a-matter-of-factly and gave him a defiant look.

Draco frown deepened instantly.

"So you must _really _be lost," Sierra continued then shook her head to herself in resignation as she started to finish up her work. "Hang on a sec, I'll just finish this," she told him, skimming the rest of the page quickly.

He creased his forehead, trying to see what she was reading from his standing position. He squinted slightly and made out an image of a scaly-snake with wings on the worn page—a dragon. He winced when Sierra snapped the book shut loudly then stood up.

"Well?" Sierra raised her eyebrows at him. "Shall we?" she prompted.

* * *

Draco looked around furtively as they entered another doorway, smaller than the last one they passed, and this hallway had no windows at all. He creased his forehead again as they seemed to be going deeper _into _the library rather than outside to the street. He watched the girl walk before him relaxed, her heavy book bag swinging from her shoulder. Did she even know where she was going? he wondered, making a face.

Sierra glanced back over her shoulder at him briefly once, Draco assumed to see if he was still there. No. Sierra had seen something move out of the corner of her eye and she furrowed her eyebrows, looking around warily as they stopped at another doorway at the end of the hall.

Draco sighed impatiently. "Do you even know where you're going?" he asked.

Sierra shot him a look of disbelief. "No," she said exaggeratedly, "I don't suppose I do. Now, would you like to lead the way?" she asked sarcastically and he gave her a suffering look. Sierra rolled her eyes before cautiously looking around again then opening the door.

"Hello?" Sierra called out as soon as they were inside.

The room was dimly lit, more dusty books lined the walls and there was an even dustier old living room set. At first glance, it looked just like an old room gone unused but when Draco looked around, he noticed several figures in the room as they walked deeper into it.

"Hey," one of the dark figures turned its head to greet them.

Draco wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"Hey," its other head turned to greet them as well.

Sierra made a face. "Oh my god, what happened here?" she wanted to know.

The room was half-filled with disfigured people, most with several more limbs or heads than they ought to have. Some of the figures were like mere shadows, like they were even barely there.

"Julius?" Sierra called out, looking around.

Another man, covered with soot but otherwise properly limbed, popped out of the fireplace at the head of the room. "Station's closed," he announced with a groan.

"What?" Sierra asked. "Why? What happened?"

The man gave a laugh. "Hoho! Darling, if I knew—," he shook his head to himself, going back under the fireplace and sticking his head up into it. "Floo network's a bust. Been since this morning. You're lucky," his voice came muffled.

Draco was still making a disgusted face. "Obviously," he commented, noting the number of apparent casualties.

"Hey, come on, man!" one of the shadows complained. "I have to _actually be somewhere_ in like—_now_!"

"Suit yourself, buddy," another disfigured one countered. "I've been stuck to this grumpy crone's lower half since this morning and she keeps kicking me."

"When's help going to get here?" Sierra asked, squinting around the room.

"Dunno," Julius replied then stuck his head out of the fireplace for a second. "Apparently, apparating's being too dangerous to try as well. But then again, you know how it's been."

"Yeah," Sierra nodded in understanding.

"How what's been?" Draco asked expectantly.

Julius and Sierra traded looks warily before the old man popped back under the fireplace. "Best to try walking," he advised loudly, his voice muffled again.

"Oh, great," Sierra rolled her eyes. "I guess we'll have to take the more scenic route," she said, starting to head back out of the room.

Draco paused for a second, his forehead creased again as he looked around. He was able to sense danger fairly easily and that girl was definitely keeping something from him—OR they were all just inexplicably strange. _Americans_, he thought in ridicule, rolling his eyes.

One of the disfigured with several pairs of eyes was standing a little too close to him. He curled his lips in distaste. "What are _you _looking at?" he snapped before he stalked out of the room himself.

* * *

Sierra led them back to the public area of the library and out the front steps. She'd been hoping to avoid crowds but it was a sunny Saturday afternoon in New York City. Hardly anyone was cooped up inside. She glanced back at Draco who was walking, his hands stuffed in his pockets, like he didn't have a care in the world.

She rolled her eyes again before she led the way to the street and down 5th avenue. "Where did you say you were going?" she asked.

"Park Avenue," Draco replied shortly.

"Where on Park Avenue exactly?"

He shot her an irritable look. "I'll know when we get there, ok?" he said. Draco didn't know the exact address of the manor but that was because he certainly hadn't been expecting to get lost in the city, didn't need to be bothered by these insignificant details.

Sierra stifled her laughter. "Oh man, aren't you ever glad you found me," she pointed out.

Draco gave her another suffering look. "Don't flatter yourself," he sneered, even though she was partly right.

"Can I flatter myself after I inform you that Park Avenue stretches practically from end to end of the entire island of Manhattan?" she prompted with a catch in her tone. "Never mind," she dismissed before she gave him a heart attack. "We'll find it. Don't worry."

"Do I look worried?" he prompted haughtily.

She just smiled, self-satisfied. They stopped at a red light. "Hey, how does someone like you get lost in the library anyhow?" she asked.

"I _wasn't _lost, ok?" he insisted. "I got separated from—"

"—your entourage?" she supplied.

Draco gave her a glare. "I wasn't _lost_," he repeated firmly.

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes again then looked up when the light turned green, "Go. So, you're not lost. What are you doing in the U.S.?"

"Visiting relatives," he answered.

"Relatives?" Sierra echoed puzzled. "I didn't know Malfoys had American relatives."

"They're my fiancée's—Veronica's—relatives," he said dismissively.

"Oh," she nodded. "What's their last name? Maybe we could ask around."

He didn't answer.

Sierra shot him a look. "You don't know their last name either, do you?" she asked.

"I _do_," Draco said pointedly then he frowned, "I just—forgot."

"Great," she nodded in mock approval.

"Listen, why don't I ask the questions," Draco started authoritatively. "What was that about, before—you and that chimney guy, what were you talking about?"

"The Floo network?" Sierra replied innocently. "I guess there's some kinda glitch with it today—those poor people," she commented. "Julius says—"

"No, no, not that," Draco shook his head. "That thing when he mentioned 'how it's been'…?" he asked. "What was he talking about?"

"Oh, that," Sierra dismissed with a wave, "It's just these Floo networks lately—they pretty much suck," she relayed. "We're all stuck taking the subway and you know what freaks lurk there—or you probably don't," she corrected herself, "but it's better than taking a cab who'll just overcharge you for the traffic anyway," she went on. "It's a big whole mess," she made a face, still waving the topic away. "Hey look, Central Park," she pointed to the other side of the street where the trees towered over the sidewalk. "You should take your fiancée there sometime."

Draco easily read through the change-the-topic technique but he didn't press on. He wasn't that curious and whatever it was, he didn't need to be bothered with it. He looked around nonchalantly. He vaguely remembered a brief trip to New York with his dad when he was much younger, even before he started at Hogwarts, but to his recall they hardly went sightseeing.

Everywhere he looked, there were people coming in and out of buildings and walkways, the sidewalk was practically packed. Different muggle races scurried about minding their own businesses, from pizza delivery guys on bikes yelling "Coming through!" to corporate-lawyer-looking people on their cellular phones. Draco received several curious glances from them, ranging from teen girls to older people and he raised an eyebrow and deduced that some of these people might even actually be witches. New York City certainly accommodated much diversity and rich culture.

Sierra watched several men by the sidewalk installing a neon sign above a doorway and creased her forehead as a stack of ladders propped against a wall cascaded down onto the sidewalk, almost falling into several people behind them. She craned her neck back to look as several people shouted complaints and more colorful four-letter words to each other and shook her head to herself wondering if all this rich _culture _was rubbing off on Draco.

She glanced back at him briefly. He was still walking as if he owned the world, unconcerned about anything. "There it is, Park Avenue," she pointed across the street as they stopped for the light.

Draco was watching the stoplight and as soon as it turned green, he stepped off the sidewalk.

"Watch it!"

* * *

**A/N:**

About the Floo thing, I read somewhere that if you floo or apparate improperly, it's possible to leave parts of you behind somewhere or something. Make sense? Hang on, I'm about to upload the 3rd chapter.


	3. Bigger things happening

**Author's Note:**

See, this is my problem with installments. Had to do a rewrite and re-everything (whew). Man, this _is_ harder than I thought. Thanks a bunch if you're still with me. Hope this goes over better. Now, let's see that again, in instant replay...

I just watched **Spiderman 2** the weekend before I first wrote this chapter, hence the title.

* * *

**Bigger things happening**

"Watch it!" 

Sierra pulled him back just as a wayward taxi zoomed into the alley beating the red light. 

Draco straightened up on the sidewalk, following the taxi with an offended glare as it drove off. "Hey, I'm bloody walking here!" he called out to it irately. 

Sierra rolled her eyes before she crossed the street. "Holler if you see anything familiar," she told him, gesturing around. She assumed a manor of the fiancée of a Malfoy could only be located somewhere on the Upper East Side. And it was becoming more and more imperative for him to return to the company of his own kind as he was most definitely not going to survive long in the muggle world—for several more reasons than what Sierra could think of. 

Draco squinted at the buildings and the street signs. _Park Avenue stretches practically from end to end of the entire island of Manhattan…_he remembered and creased his forehead, trying not to worry. 

"Don't you have like something like a homing beacon charm thing on your wand?" Sierra asked as she had made such a modification to her wand some time ago, but she's only really used it whenever she was in Brooklyn. 

"I don't have my wand," he replied coolly. 

She gawked at him. "Whoa," she said pointedly. 

Draco shot her another sharp look. 

"I mean wow," she blinked and amended. "That's really…brave of you—kind of stupid, but brave," she said. 

"It wasn't my decision," he explained thickly. "Veronica's mother made me leave it behind. She said she didn't want to scare these muggles with magic but apparently you don't mind showing off." 

"Showing off?" she echoed in ridicule. "Nobody saw me. Nobody cares." 

"But it's not allowed, is it?" Draco prompted. 

Sierra pursed her lips. "Okay, no," she replied then gave him a strange look. "Am I getting a lecture about following rules from a Malfoy?" she asked skeptically. 

Draco gave her a narrow-eyed look. "What are _you _on about?" he asked noting her tone. 

She rolled her eyes. "I'm saying I don't think someone who regularly sneaked out of the dorms at night to spy on Harry Potter should be telling _me _about following rules," she explained. 

He raised an eyebrow. "And how would _you _know about it?" he asked huffily. 

Sierra shrugged. "Hermione told me," she relayed simply. 

"Granger, that filthy mudblood," Draco sneered in apparent disgust. "What were you doing talking to _her_!" 

She shot him a strange look. "She's my friend," she said as-a-matter-of-factly. "You know the whole muggle-born thing, we kinda have that in common," she told him. "She's really nice and unbelievably smart. She used to help me with my Defense Against the Dark Arts homework. Not to mention History lessons, Herbology and that damn Arithmancy class—" 

But Draco's brain had stopped processing right after her second sentence. His eyes widened in surprise. "You're a mudblood!" Disbelief and displeasure was clear in his tone. 

She blinked, amused. "Well, yeah," she nodded and watched his reaction. "What, you're gonna run in the other direction screaming now?" she prompted. 

Draco's frown didn't dissolve but he didn't run in the other direction screaming either. He needed her help no matter what her blood type was and he knew it. He settled to just sneering and walked slightly slower so as not to be at pace with her. "God, I suppose you're one of Potty's fans as well," he guessed. "Like Colin Creevey, always following him around, thinking Pothead was so special." 

"Actually no," Sierra said pointedly, "but they were my friends. Hermione, Harry, Ron." 

Draco was making a face so bad, Sierra couldn't resist to add, "Neville," mischievously. 

At that, Draco winced as if he was going to throw up and Sierra laughed. "You're terrible!" she commented. "I don't know if you noticed but Slytherin's not much of a house for building friendships, especially for a mudblood like me, _obviously_," Sierra said and rolled her eyes in recall. "I even remember Pansy Parkinson clearly saying at lunch once—and this is a direct quotation," she put in pointedly, "that she'd rather make out with a flatulent troll than be friends with me." 

"Ah Pansy," Draco nodded, understanding completely. 

"Where is Pansy, by the way?" Sierra asked curiously. "I thought at this time, she'd _still _be glued to your daft British arse," she mocked the accent, "like she was permanently glued to you at Hogwarts." 

He creased his forehead and paused to consider before he amended, "Not _permanently_." He shrugged carelessly. "Pansy's fine. Pansy's Pansy." 

"Hey, yeah, wait a minute, I thought she was supposed to be 'betrothed'," she made a face as she emphasized the term in ridicule as if she couldn't think of anything worse to ever happen to somebody, "to you?" 

"Not anymore," Draco replied flatly. 

"Where is she? Still in London, I presume," Sierra said. "Couldn't stand to be just the maid of honor at your wedding, huh?" she jeered. "Back then, always at your beck and call, hanging on to your every word—" 

Draco mumbled something incoherent, looking uncomfortable. 

"What?" Sierra asked, creasing her forehead as she strained to hear. 

He repeated it in a more garbled manner. 

"What!" she asked in shock. "She dumped _you _for…Blaise Zabini…!" she echoed in surprise and disbelief. "Whoa…" 

"Look, I don't want to talk about this." Draco preferred not to detail the whole incident. It was quite embarrassing for starters, plus he could _not_, for Merlin's sake, understand Pansy's reasons for choosing Zabini over him. He was certainly the better of the two, in blood, brains and looks. 

This making absolutely no sense at all brought him to the only conclusion that Pansy Parkinson was even more stupid than he initially thought. She should have been ruddy well grateful to have been born chosen to be his match. Draco dismissed his thoughts irritably. "Aren't we there yet?" he asked irritably, looking around. 

"Hey, you tell me, ferret boy," Sierra raised her hands, cluelessly. 

Draco shot her a sharp look. 

Sierra stifled her laughter then conceded, "Hey, look, if it makes you feel any better, I'm sure Pansy's going to regret it," she said. "I mean, if she was going to choose a Slytherin for an arranged marriage, you'd think she could've made with the top of the bunch you know—" 

Draco was going to start to appreciate her comment until she finished. 

"—the _most evil_." 

He stopped short and rolled his eyes. "Thanks a lot." 

"You're welcome," she smiled brightly then gestured around exasperatedly. "Look, don't you see anything familiar yet? We've gone like 10 blocks already." 

"Well, I bloody well don—" 

"_Look out below!_" 

Sierra's eyes widened and instinctively she leaped onto Malfoy to knock him out of the way and they fell to the ground, at the same time something crashed loudly behind them, shattering the cemented walkway. 

"What the bloody hell—?" Draco pushed himself off the pavement. 

Sierra glanced back, gasping. "Shit." It was a big metal hook, the kind that hangs off the end of construction cranes used for demolitions. The thing had barely missed them by just a few inches. She looked up at the building where construction was indeed being made up top. 

Draco was pissed. "God!" he followed her gaze. "You'd think they'd have warning signs around or something!" he dusted himself off angrily as he stood up. 

Several passersby were looking on, some just curiously, some looking to help. A building manager had furiously rushed out of the entrance of the building to check over the damage and yell at some construction workers down on ground level for destroying his sidewalk. More yelling from above. 

Draco looked back down at Sierra who hadn't gotten up yet. "What, are you planning to just sit there all day? Waiting for another one to drop down, are you?" he demanded, even as he heaved slightly. 

Sierra's forehead creased and it suddenly popped in her head and she blinked. 

_Third Omen._

Draco evened out his breathing. He shot her a look, mistaking her lingering for an injury and creased his forehead. "Are you hurt?" he asked warily. 

A passage from the book she was reading earlier was flashing in Sierra's mind. 

_…when his fatigue is over shall he recover his strength…then shall misfortune hasten upon the dragon…_

When Thames handed Sierra the book about Merlin's divinations yesterday so she could look through it, she looked at him skeptically, thought he was just nuts, probably wasting their time and hoped he'd given her the other book about curses to read through. This morning, Sierra could've easily dismissed to a mere coincidence the fact that Draco just happened to arrive in America at this time. But now, Sierra was positive. 

There were bigger things happening here. She should've known grave things were in the air whenever Malfoys were within an 8-mile radius. She had to go to the East Village to give Thames the news, but first she had to confirm her theory. 

The clincher was how she could convince Draco Malfoy that he needed help without telling him that his life was most probably in danger. 

"Are you going to be all right?" Draco repeated impatiently. 

Sierra looked up wide-eyed and met his gaze wordlessly. _I _am… 


	4. When You Know the Worst is Coming

**When You Know the Worst is Coming**

"_My _fault! You could've just ducked," Sierra pointed out, heatedly.

"How hard is it to cast a spell?" Draco asked with a mocking tone.

"You're lucky I saw it coming at all!"

"_Immobilus _is just _one _word—"

"Well then why didn't _you _cast it, know-it-all?"

"I don't _have _my wand—or did you forget?"

"Oohh, you're impossible!" Sierra groaned loudly in frustration. She had to get them to the East Village and she had to get them there _now_. But getting Draco Malfoy interested enough to go down there was harder than Sierra had thought it would be. Why she might even have to resort to downright sneakiness.

She had tried appealing to his being homesick, mentioning Hogwarts and Diagon Alley, or maybe he'd want to check out the latest in magic in America, she thought, telling him about the magical communities in New York, then she had tried appealing to his sentimentality, referring to the galleries about wizards there that included his father—_everything_—but all she'd managed to do every time so far was get into another argument with him.

The sole upside was that Draco was much too disoriented at the geography and such a sucker for arguments to notice that she had been leading them in circles for the past ten minutes. Sierra chewed on her bottom lip. _This is hopeless_, she thought with a sigh, shaking her head to herself. _Insolent prat_, she frowned, miffed. Draco Malfoy absolutely cared about nothing—_nothing _whatsoever except himself!

This called for drastic measures.

* * *

There was just one thing worse than dirt-poor wizards like the Weasleys and mudbloods like the Grangers, Draco thought, his forehead permanently creased in displeasure. And right now he was surrounded by a mob of them. Muggles—muggles everywhere.

"Coming through!" Sierra bellowed as they passed the hallway full of NYU students spilling out of their dorm rooms and making a ruckus in the halls, throwing dirty laundry everywhere. Sierra glanced back at Draco and smirked at his aghast expression. "Far cry from the boy's dormitory isn't it?" she prompted gaily.

Draco returned her gaze with an incredulous look. He thought he'd seen tamer animals in a pub brawl. He'd been surprised to learn from Sierra that this was in fact a school. It was certainly a far cry from the Slytherin dungeons at Hogwarts and he wondered what the hell they were doing here anyway.

Sierra had dragged him down to this filthy, smelly underground train station, despite his blatant and really loud complaints about the aesthetics of the place and keeping cautious watch on which surfaces he brushed against, saying she knew a shortcut back down Park Avenue to start over and that they'd probably already passed the manor while walking. Then when they got off the train, it was "I just gotta make one quick stop first" and the next thing he knew, this hallway happened.

"Yo Davey!" someone hollered.

Sierra stopped in front of an open door—all the doors seemed to be open, the hallway looked like one big free for all. "Hey James, what up?" she asked, ignoring Draco, and talking to the guy.

Draco stood back, struggling to keep a safe distance from the unsightly muggles passing by the halls—whom for all he knew could be carrying an assortment of infectious diseases.

"Watch out!" someone carrying a hamper yelled pushing through the hallway crowd.

Two guys yelling Greek letters ran down the hallway throwing colored flyers into the opens doors.

Draco gawked at one girl who walked past him wearing only a towel over her undergarments and disappeared into another nearby open door and he shook his head in disbelief.

There didn't seem to be any order at all! Draco wrinkled his nose in distaste. No wonder muggles were such daft creatures—especially these American ones—if these were the sort of standards these educational institutions here ran by.

He looked up and his eyes lit up in alarm when he didn't see Sierra anywhere. "_Bloody hell_—", he muttered frustratedly as he went off to look for her, peering cautiously into select open doors—or at least the ones that didn't have stuff congealing on them. _Ugh nasty…_

* * *

"Or you could be wrong," Andrew Becker pointed out as he watched Sierra fret about in his room, which incidentally she occasionally used as a dumping ground.

"_Or _I could be right," Sierra countered, running her finger past several spines on the bookshelf that lined the wall, her forehead creasing. "Where's my Divination book?" she asked, pulling out several books and sorting through them haphazardly.

"Hey, careful!" he warned, his eyes widening, standing up from his unmade bed and wading through the laundry and clutter on the floor to get to her. "Some of those are older than ancient."

"Star Wars: From Concept to Screen to Collectible…?" Sierra held one up, raising her eyebrows at him skeptically.

"What?" Andrew asked, seemingly offended as he took the book from her and placed it carefully on the table. "It's a first edition," he informed her.

"Whatever, Andrew." Sierra rolled her eyes and continued to sift through books.

"What are you looking for again?"

"My Divination book—Death Omens. Have you seen it?" she asked, peering under the shelf for other books.

Andrew bent down and looked through the stuff on the floor. "Hey, here's my Kings of Cronus game. I've been looking for this everywhere," he picked up a game cartridge off the floor. "You know, even Jack can't beat my high scores on the boss stage, there's this fat guy who eats—"

Sierra rolled her eyes again. "Andrew—just—look for my book, ok?' she said.

"Fine, fine, Wicked Witch of the West," Andrew frowned then continued to look. "Oh, here it is," he spoke up, unearthing an old book from under a pile of comic books and scattered video games and read the spine, "Death Omens: What To Do When You Know the Worst is Coming—Sierra, come on!" he shot her a look of disbelief. "Don't you think you may be getting a teensy bit carried away here?" he asked.

Sierra snatched the book from his hand and gave him a pointed look but said nothing.

"I mean you know how these ancient texts work," he said. "They're always open to interpretation. Making sure a single word can mean any damn thing so as to always be accurate somehow and nobody'd get blamed for when it all screws up—I see it all the time in movies," he nodded in assurance.

"Calm down, Andrew," she told him. "I'm not about to put the entire magical community in a panic. All I'm doing is researching this stuff and taking it to Thames so _he _can put the entire magical community in a panic."

Andrew rolled his eyes. "What makes you so sure 'the worst is coming' anyhow?" he asked. "I didn't see any rain of frogs, hail of fire—"

And Draco Malfoy entered the room.

Andrew and Sierra looked up.

"Oh, there you are," Sierra paused dully, "Andrew Becker, Draco Malfoy," she started, "Malfoy, Andrew, Andrew, Malfoy," she said carelessly.

Draco didn't move to acknowledge Andrew. Draco was looking pissed. He had _not _enjoyed his little trip down muggle lane _at all_. He certainly did not enjoy being lost in the chaos of the outside hall surrounded by those vile disgusting muggles and he wasn't going to acquaint himself with one either.

Andrew creased his forehead, not seeming to mind the passover. "Wait. Malfoy?" he echoed, looking to Sierra. "I've heard of him before. Why have I heard of him before?"

"Maybe because his father was a Death Eater and their family's one of the most powerful and influential pureblood lines in the magical world?" she replied nonchalantly.

"Cool," Andrew nodded in awe.

"Great," she rolled her eyes. "Glad you're impressed. Maybe you could ask for his autograph," she suggested sarcastically. "Not a lot of purebloods roll down this city, that's for sure."

"Oy!" Draco shot them both a pointed look. "I actually _am _in the room, you know?" He was not accustomed to being ignored. Great halls and roomfuls of people stopped chattering whenever he entered. They hushed whenever he commanded and obeyed his every whim. And _this _muggle-born git was dragging him around like he was her own personal elf on a leash. It was an insult, an abomination, an outrage. Draco glared at her, seething, his lips a thin line. _If I only had my wand…_

"Listen," Sierra continued to Andrew, holding up the books and still ignoring Draco, "thanks. We've gotta go. Got a couple more stops before going to see the man. Come on, Malfoy," she finally waved at him to go, heading out the door. "Later Andrew," she bade shortly.

"Tell me when the world ends when you find out though, ok?" Andrew called teasing.

"No problem," she poked her head back in the room with a mischievous wink.

"Just kidding?" Andrew called out hopefully.

* * *

**a/n:** yeah, _that_ scene again... look out, more comin' up. thanks for reading! 


	5. Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon

**Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon**

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Draco demanded furiously, once they had exited the dorm building.

"Ow!" Sierra yelped. Draco had grabbed her arm and dragged to the side of the building. She struggled to free her arm. "What?"

"I asked what the _bloody hell_ you think you're doing?" he repeated. "What do you think you're playing at? I asked you to take me to the manor and you bring me here—to this—to this—," he gestured to the dorm building behind them, "brothel—full of filthy muggles and whatnot. I demand an explanation."

Sierra blinked at him. "Okay," she started calmly. "First of all, you didn't _ask _for my help, not properly anyway. Second of all, you don't even know where in the hell this manor is," she threw up her hands skeptically. "We practically scraped Park Avenue the length of the city and you still couldn't find it. And _third _of all, this is not a 'brothel'. This is a dorm building," she said as-a-matter-of-factly.

Draco gritted his teeth at her impertinence. "You _said _you knew of a shortcut to Park Avenue by way of train and that we'd be there in no time."

"I lied," she shrugged simply. "Sorry."

He groaned frustratedly. She would presume to make a fool out of a Malfoy. He would not be treated as inferior or stupid, no matter if it was somehow partly true. It wasn't like he'd had a choice in the matter of getting lost. "Does this amuse you?" a nerve ticked in the back of his neck. "You like the fact that I'm disadvantaged without magic. If I had my wand—"

"I was just trying to make a point, you insufferable—"

"I do not need you to make points," Draco stated firmly. "You will take me back to Park Avenue to find the manor and you _will _do it without incident or we'll both get to find out just exactly how helpless I can be _without _magic," he said darkly, leaning closer menacingly. "Are we clear?" he prompted, tightening his grip on her arm such that Sierra winced in pain. "Or is that too complicated a task for a mudblood to accomplish?" he prompted with a sneer.

Sierra raised an eyebrow and gave him a suffering look. "Is that the best you can do? Call me names that don't necessarily offend me?" she asked in ridicule. "You can call me mudblood any day of the week and I won't even wince! I'm sorry if you missed the sign but I'm _not _one of your servants. You can't order me around. Nor am I obligated to help you in any way," she informed him. "I will _take _you to your stupid manor or you can just run along, your choice. Either way, I will cause any and all incidents as I please. Now let go of my arm," Sierra said to his face, undauntedly.

The furrow in his eyebrows deepened frustratedly as she met his glare head on, unflinching. Nobody, not under the threat of their life, had ever directly verbally assaulted him in such an offensive manner before, not a girl and especially not a mudblood. It was completely unheard of and he didn't like it one bit. He was feared, highly respected, worshiped, revered—and he was going to make her understand.

Sierra felt as though she could very easily shrink under his forbidding figure. She suddenly realized how relieved she was that she didn't have to endure much of him at Hogwarts. The personal brand of terror he was famous for was well earned and legend. She should have known she would probably not be able to handle angering a Malfoy. This was the kind of bully she'd have paid good money not to have to butt heads with. But she couldn't back down now. She had a job to do. "I'm not afraid of you," she said firmly, swallowing hard.

He met her gaze again at her words and gave her a scorned look, "Wrong answer."

* * *

"Davey?"

A highly skeptical voice called out from behind them and both Sierra and Draco jumped in surprise, causing Draco to let her go. Sierra blew out her breath in extreme relief and looked up gratefully at whom she was going to have to _deify _for interrupting a Malfoy's wrath and her face fell.

A noisy stream of frat boys and sorority chicks had ran down the side of the building and two blonde girls who had lagged behind the group were now heading towards them and eyeing Draco rather curiously.

"Oh crap," Sierra groaned inwardly. "Stuck up snob alert," she muttered. _This is so not my day…_

"Sierra?" one of the girls—the taller one, prompted with a tone of disbelief in her voice as she looked from her to Draco then back to her again, seeming unable to believe her eyes as they got closer. "I thought that was you," she gave her a fake smile. "Where have you been hiding yourself, how've you been, we haven't seen you around campus lately, who's this? I'm Tanya," she introduced herself after her onslaught of words, batting her eyelashes at Draco.

"And I'm Kiera," the other blonde chimed in before casting Sierra a look down her nose. "Where's Calvin?" she asked condescendingly.

"Uh…" Sierra looked from the pair to Draco flustered, "Cal—uh—he's—"

"Oh, don't mind her," Tanya cut Sierra off dismissively. "She's retarded," she informed Draco before turning her charms on to him. "So, are you new around here, where do you live, what's your name?"

Draco whose forehead had been creased in obvious displeasure gave Sierra an annoyed look sideways, raising a repulsed eyebrow and made no move to interact with the two muggle blondes.

Sierra blinked again. "Uhh…this is Drac—," she stopped short, realizing his magical name wouldn't go over well with the locals.

"Drake," Tanya beamed brightly, mistaking her pause for conclusion. "What a gorgeous name. It's glorious to meet you," she bubbled.

"Drake what?" Kiera prompted with a breathy voice.

Draco shot Sierra an expectant look.

"Uh…Draco…_Neil_—," popped in her head, "Drake O'Neil," Sierra nodded semi-flustered.

"Oh," Kiera smiled brightly again. "Pleasure to have you in our humble school, Mr—."

Tanya elbowed her pointedly. "Shut up, Kiera," she said shortly then gazed up at Draco again, looking completely fascinated. "So Drake—can I call you Drake? Since we're all friends now, I'm having this party at my place to honor new students—"

Sierra gave her a skeptical look. _Yeah right!_

"—it's just a small gathering of close friends, a get-together, a get-to-know-you party, so since I'm hosting the party, I'd have to be escorted by a new student of course so how about it? Tomorrow night, 8 o'clock—"

Draco wrinkled his nose in distaste, edging away from her that if Sierra didn't know better, she'd say he was frightened of the girl. Tanya was still talking non-stop when he just simply turned and walked away.

Sierra jumped alerted and made her excuses as she started to walk away herself. "Hey uh…" she started to the two, "sorry, but we're—leaving. Uh…great running into you guys," she said robotically, "See you Monday—tomorrow—whenever—" She quickly caught up with Draco halfway down the street.

"Cheers!" Tanya called out sweetly after them.

"Ugh," Sierra glanced back at that and made a horrible face. "That was disgusting. Oh my god," she let out her breath, starting to laugh. "What was _that_? It was like—the chicks were under some sort of _spell_—no pun intended," she snorted at her own lame joke.

Draco was still brooding, his mood having not improving.

Sierra peered into his face warily, then after a moment rolled her eyes resigning to her guilt. "Fine, I'm sorry I lied," she said. "Look, it won't happen again, ok?"

He didn't reply. He kept walking.

Sierra made a grotesque expression exasperatedly. She felt she'd rather deal with an angry Malfoy than a moody one. "Oh come on, when you think about it, I didn't _really _do anything _really _wrong, did I? What's wrong with a little extended tour of New York? I'm showing you the city as it is off the guidebooks—you've got all the cool stuff and none of those stupid touristy things. I would think you'd be grateful for all this free sightseeing."

Draco still didn't respond.

She rolled her eyes again. "Ok, fine, you shouldn't be grateful," she started over. "I lied and I'm a dirty rotten scum sucker. I'm not so worthy as to worship the ground you tread on. I'm a pranking, pig-headed, neurotic psycho. Oh, and a mudblood too, a vile disgusting mudblood," she added firmly.

That at least made Draco glance over at Sierra in ridicule and she laughed under her breath good-naturedly. "Come on," she coaxed, "I really _am _sorry I faked you out back there, I was just trying to prove a point—," she stopped short when he shot her a dirty look again, "—which I won't get into again right now," she amended quickly. "_Anyway_, my _new _point is you have to get back to your manor, right? So let's go. That's if that's all right with you," she prompted.

He shot her a suspicious look, as if still not believing her.

"Honest," Sierra said solemnly. "No more tricks. I promise."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

hey, **lilyqueen**! sorry but narcissa probably won't be on til a little later in the story. i had to move her 'evil glare' back a couple of chapters. i was thinking making narcissa the bad guy might be too obvious so i might rethink that, but then again, who knows? it's only chapter 5 yet anyway. thanks loads for all the awesome reviews!

the next chapter's probably gonna take some work. i'm gonna need a bit of brilliance from j.k. rowling to be able to pull it off. hope you guys are enjoying reading as much as i'm enjoying writing this. thank you so much for sticking around (yeah, both of you)! hehehe... hope you check back again a little later! thanks!


	6. Twelve and three quarters Avenue

**Twelve-and-three-quarters Avenue**

Draco, despite having considerably calmed down from the past half-hour, still had his eyebrows furrowed. Even though he was walking, hands stuffed in his pockets, as if he didn't have a care in the world, plenty were running through his mind. He was still trying to get a handle on his bearings. There was presently nothing he could do about being magically disadvantaged anyway so he just had to find some other way to deal with that.

There was also the issue of this impudent mudblood, disregarding tradition and the respect she should bloody well have for him and his name. And although she _had _promised no more tricks, Draco was now more alert if she was be in fact leading them in circles again. He more than considered just tossing out on her ear if only there was anyone else he could ask for directions, preferably anyone of pure magical breeding. But there wasn't.

Then there was that strange feeling he felt earlier this afternoon while they were at the broken down Floo network. Not that he intended to concern himself with the affairs of these American witches as he'd be leaving in a few days anyway but he could still feel it—the faint sense of danger brewing. His well-trained instincts told him that whatever the chimney guy and that girl was talking about, it was nothing to be taken lightly. And he was for certain better to keep his guard up.

Draco winced slightly as he felt as though a faint surge of something passed through him.

Sierra noticed. "Feel that?" she prompted with a grin.

He looked up at her abruptly. She hadn't spoken in the past seven minutes. He already missed the quiet. He raised her eyebrows, expecting her to explain her sudden remark and how she could have possibly known what he'd felt but Sierra just smiled mysteriously as they continued down the block.

Draco shot her back another annoyed look and just rolled his eyes. He looked around warily, his eyebrows furrowed, trying to guess what she was on about _this _time. A mix of old and new buildings and several low New York flats lined the block, not unlike the ones on the past five blocks they had passed.

"You don't have like half-veela genes or something, do you?" Sierra asked out of the blue.

Draco looked at her evenly. "I'm a pureblood," he explained firmly. "_Pure_—_blood_—where in that word do you find half-veela?"

As it was, Sierra had several concerns of her own, some not far off from Draco's. She had to re-evaluate the events of today, what they could mean, and then formulate some kind of theory to present to Thames. She also had to present herewith said theory one stubborn wizard who might at any point simply decide to bugger off. Plus she had to keep an eye out for any more omens, any imminent threats hovering about, looming danger, basically anything suspicious, which unfortunately included unusual behavior of people around them.

"Hey, search me," Sierra shrugged innocently. "I just thought the moron twins were laying it on pretty thick back there. Guess they were just really hormone-overloaded."

"Hormone-overloaded?" Draco repeated.

"Horny."

He raised an eyebrow at her frankness.

"Not that that's anything new to you," Sierra muttered knowingly under her breath as there probably would not be a non-hormone-overloaded muggle _or _non-muggle female for that matter within a mile radius of Draco Malfoy.

"Like _you _know anything about it," Draco retorted, slightly offended.

"How wouldn't I?" she let out a short laugh. "I remember every other Slytherin girl couldn't find any other topic to talk about at lunch," she informed him. "Not to mention a couple other girls in other houses. Hogwarts isn't that big a school, you know. Although you might wanna think of adding some actual tact to your brush-offs. Falls kinda crude," she remarked critically.

Draco was used to being mobbed by that kind of swooning lot. He usually relished in the attention but he just didn't fancy muggle ones doing the same flirting bit. "I hardly care what these muggle girls think," he said haughtily. "And if I recall correctly," he added, "_you _didn't seem too keen on the two girls earlier either."

"So? They weren't hitting on _me_," she pointed out.

He had to roll his eyes and tried ignoring her.

They passed the display windows of several shops on the side of the street and Draco was watching his reflection in them when he blinked and suddenly focused on the contents of one particular window. He squinted to read the inscription on what was on sale clearly.

_Firebolt Omega._

His eyes widened and he backed up a step.

The whole window displayed several more broomsticks. So did three more down the street. _What the—?_ He looked around more carefully. Amidst the regular New York hustle and bustle, he could now pick out several unusual occurrences—distinctively not of the normal muggle nature, things that could very easily be missed by someone if not looking carefully.

The Pet Shop up ahead was fronted by an unusual abundance of owls in cages apart from the usual other assorted birds. A sign in a clothing shop window read 'Clearance Sale ye old Hats' beside a display of long black robes. Beside a store with a display of coffee mugs called _Starbucks _was a familiar looking sign _'Flourish & Blotts'_. He blinked to clear his vision as he saw yet another familiar looking sign up ahead. _Gringott's _N.Y.

Someone had some serious explaining to do.

Draco grabbed Sierra's arm again, "Oy."

* * *

"12 ¾ what?" Draco asked skeptically.

"12 ¾ Avenue," Sierra repeated as-a-matter-of-factly. "New York City's magical community in the flesh, so to speak. Something like a Diagon Alley Hogsmeade hybrid. For all your magical needs," she plugged like a slogan. "What you felt earlier was probably the magical boundary." Then she remarked, "Talk about pureblood. Even _I _can't feel the borders and _I _live here."

Draco was still on the name. "12 ¾ what?" he repeated, making a face.

Sierra laughed to herself. "Actually that's just a nickname we call the place," she explained. "See the magical community used to be near the old Brooklyn Bridge and it wasn't called anything at all. Then when they all moved uptown, they settled in this area between 12th and 13th Avenue where the street kind of seems to break off into nowhere. It's very convenient."

"And _what _are we doing here?" he asked, which was actually his whole point.

She blinked at him. "Oh, uh…shortcut," she replied shortly.

Draco gawked at her in annoyance but she'd already walked ahead. He groaned as he trudged along, his eyebrows drawn together irritably, his arms crossed over his chest.

It was nothing like the Diagon Alley in London in Draco's opinion. 12 ¾ Avenue was more like a street that went around a whole block, old building architectures mixed with modern-styled structures. Although if one took notice, one would observe that even the modern-looking buildings all had chimneys up top, not emitting smoke however as none of them seemed to be working at the moment.

Although, most of the shops sold things that Draco couldn't even identify, flat TVs and strange little gadgets. A street-sweeper was stalled on the side of the street in front of a shop called _Games & Craft_. There was a _Computer Barn, All You Can Play Gaming Networks, Joe's 25-hour Videos, Radio Shack._ Draco read off the signs and wrinkled his nose. _Magnus' Health Bar & Buy._ It was beside the Candy Shop.

Some restaurants had outside tables and even though loads of the shops seemed to be packed, there seemed to be way too many regularly dressed muggle-looking people about. "All these wizards look like muggles," Draco observed out loud.

Sierra nodded in approval. "Perceptive," she commented. "Actually, that's 'cause they're not all wizards," she explained. "Some of them are muggles. It's a big mix."

He shot her another look of disbelief.

"We don't have a muggle-repellant spell about the place," she explained further. "Bad for business."

If Draco's jaw could drop any lower, it'd be halfway to China. _No muggle-repellant spell?_

"Muggles are great customers," she informed him. "They're very curious and are more than willing to pay a good buck for weird things. Besides," she shrugged, "muggles think magic has to be all dark and mysterious so they go for all these creepy titled books like 'Wicca Mysteries of the Moon' or some shit and ignore _our _books which are the actual books that work—well, for us anyway. There's even this whole team who makes up these books about magic to sell to muggles," she relayed animatedly, "with all these made up spells and things. I bought one called 'Spells and Charms'. It was so funny," she said with a laugh but Draco seemed less amused. She cleared her throat. "Uh…they're actually very creative and entertaining. But that's all there is to them," she finished.

Draco craned his neck to follow a muggle couple and their kid walk past them as he thought he saw the kid holding an object that looked suspiciously like a—

"That's a remembrall," he noted with disbelief.

"Yeah, don't worry," Sierra assured. "It's purely decorative to them. Besides, there's like this whole other team that makes sure all the non-lethal magical stuff we sell are muggle-proofed. Then the stuff like broomsticks got some kind of disillusionment charms about them so muggles won't be the least bit interested in them."

"You're selling muggles magical items? This is absurd!" he exclaimed. "How can the Ministry even allow these ignorant muggles to be able to find this place?"

"Oh re_lax_," she assured, rolling her eyes. "It's not like there aren't any rules or anything. I mean of course those stiffs at the Ministry made pretty damn sure of that. Muggles can come in and out of the block and the shops but," she paused, "there are some areas that only our kind is able to access." She gestured to the store up ahead. A rusty sign hung on a metal post that read 'Melting Pot' in old-type script over a narrow door.

"Let's go," Sierra said, holding the door open for him and motioned him inside.

Draco shot her a suspicious look. "Go? I thought you said this was a shortcut?" he demanded.

Sierra bit back a sly grin. "I lied again. Sorry," she shrugged. "What?" she prompted when he glared at her. "I'm a Slytherin," she pointed out as if an explanation, "Bite me—hey—!" she yelled when she saw Draco had already left and was halfway down the street.

She barely caught up with his long strides, already panting. "Where are you going?" she asked.

Draco hissed at her. "I've had enough of this," he snapped. "I'm probably better off asking directions from a lamppost than from you."

Sierra made a face. "Look, we're already here, don't you wanna just look around a little or—"

"Sod off!"

She groaned loudly. "Come on, I can explain everything," she started. "Would you just come inside for five minutes—just five minutes?" she pressed.

He ignored her and kept walking.

"This is important!" Sierra called out. "This could be life or death! _Your _life or death," she rushed on pointedly, dodging the crowd of afternoon shoppers. "Don't you care at all what—"

"No," he replied coldly, shortly. Draco's patience had run out. He was not going to be made a fool thrice in one day and by a mudblood no less. He'd rather walk back to London. He stalked off, fuming. If he had his wand, he'd have been back to the manor in less than a second. If he had his wand, he could've already hexed her the moment she tricked him. _If _he only had his wand.

Unfortunately for him, _she _had _hers_.

"_Impedimenta!_"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

there, how's that read? well, tell me how you like _this_ version. love a review. drop by again in a little while. might get a little tight for updates. thanks for reading! you guys rock!


	7. Divination Central

**Author's Note:**

Blimey, what is that? Is that...is that an **update**? Heck, it **must** be an update! What else could it be? _Lolz_... Man, did I take a long break. Sorry folks, work sucks. Such is life. _Anyhoo_, here's the next installment. Hope it's to you folks' liking. Thanks for droppin' by! Hope you leave a review before you go. Cheerio! (_this is me trying to sound British)_

_Aaaaand..._ after months of Draco being frozen...

* * *

**Divination Central**

"_Finite incantatem_!"

Draco's limbs slacked as he was freed from the spell and he glared at Sierra menacingly, "_You_—"

Sierra yelped, stepping back and pointing her wand at him again threateningly, "Try it."

"Calm down, lad. You're all right," a guy with spiky blond hair said to Draco who turned his sharp look at him. The guy edged back, "Whoa, hey, easy on the aggression," he put up his hands in defeat, "Pureblood right here."

Draco's eyebrows furrowed as he gave the guy with an Irish accent a once over as if not believing him.

He nodded in assurance. "Yeah, enjoy it fella, we'll be the only ones," he informed him. He turned to her, "You were right, love. He _is_—what was that term you used?" he prompted, "A feisty one?"

"British prick?" Sierra supplied with a slight sneer before she at eased, putting her wand away.

"We haven't seen you around here for quite a while," the guy said of Sierra. "Disappearing then coming back with shit this heavy. I tell you the place hasn't stopped buzzing all day. I heard old Julius has his hands full up at the Library."

"Yeah, saw him," she replied walking over to a computer console on a nearby desk. "You guys send help up there yet? There was like a dozen creepy characters floating around and I _do _mean—"

Draco looked around the strange place, his eyebrows still drawn together irately. The room had an eerie feel about it, emphasized by the spotlights lined on the ceiling aimed at the rows and rows of crystal balls on separate podiums arrayed all around the center of the room casting even more eerie shadows on the floor, rows and rows that upon more careful inspection would reveal that there were actually just two rows and then reflecting mirrors all around them making them look numerous. This however didn't stop a mixture of plain clothed and robed witches to bustle about, coming in and out and through the several mirrors, looking into far off crystal balls or consulting display terminals along the nearby wall.

"What place _is _this?"

The guy blinked and glanced over at the baffled-slash-livid-looking Draco. "Oh, right, sorry," he approached him with a friendly smile, putting his hand out to shake. "Billy Chutenagen. Folks call me Chute."

Draco narrowed his eyes at Chute's hand but didn't move take it. "Shoot?" he repeated incredulously.

"Aye. Close enough," Chute nodded, withdrawing his hand, then gestured around. "This here's our Disaster Prevention Department—Divination Central, if you catch my drift. We'd like to think of ourselves as the wizard equivalent of the muggle's C.I.A.," he paused for effect, grinning.

Draco didn't react. He was busy peering at the several glass pensieve models on a shelf, his nose wrinkled as he kept a safe distance from anything and sidestepped widely to avoid a passing Auror who was otherwise preoccupied to notice anyway.

Chute frowned. "Get it? Central Intelligence Agency?" he prompted expectantly.

"He doesn't know what the C.I.A. is, Agent Lamebrain," Sierra reminded him, looking over her shoulder. "Mr. Malfoy is a pureblood fresh pluck from London."

"Malfoy…" Chute repeated slowly. "I think I've heard of 'im," he said vaguely.

Draco couldn't help an irritated hiss as he rolled his eyes. Just like he wasn't accustomed to being ignored, he wasn't accustomed to being unknown either. Back in England, the sheer mention of his name brought immediate reactions from witches and wizards alike. His presence alone could incite fear _and _admiration. His mere glance commanded respect.

"Anyhoo, this is where it's all done aight," Chute continued to explain. "Fortune telling, tea leaves, tarot—sometimes we put out this booth on Christmas and read palms. Muggles love it," he relayed with another grin.

"_What am I doing here?_"

Sierra and Chute both jumped startled at Draco's outburst before she shot Chute a meaningful look.

"We're supposed to wait for Thames," Chute said pointedly in a low whisper.

Sierra gave him another look. "Would _you _like to tell him that?" she gestured to the ever-impatient Draco.

"_You _tell him," Chute said, huffing in disbelief. "You shouldn't've brought him here in the first place."

"He needs to know," she insisted.

"Know what?" Draco prompted warily.

"Uh…" Sierra blinked, uncertain of how to begin.

"Did you say life or death?" Draco recalled. "That's what you said right? _My _life or death."

At that Sierra winced and Chute groaned loudly, "Oh Sierra, you _did not._"

"Oh leave me alone!" Sierra snorted haughtily, turning away to consult another terminal screen. "I know what I read and I know what I know, ok? These are warning signs."

Chute chuckled sarcastically. "See, now she thinks your life is in _danger_," he told Draco. "Because of this cockamamie passage she read from some New Age book written by Merlin fanatics—as if the guy was a big deal—and just because you happen to have arrived, which could, by the way, just be the biggest bleedin' coincidence—," he stopped short, sighing. "Look, Sierra," he called, "you _know _Thames isn't going to buy this."

"This Thames, he's…?" Draco wanted to know.

"Oh, Thames sort of heads up this Department," he replied. "He's the authority of Divination in America," Chute informed him. "He's also the best Divination mentor. Sierra's real lucky to be apprenticing under him. He's really finicky about his apprentices."

"_I'll _say," Sierra huffed as-a-matter-of-factly, not turning around.

"He's also going to give you a lot of words about jumping to conclusions again when he gets here," Chute said loudly. "You shouldn't have told Mr. Malfoy here about your theory yet until Thames says so."

She stuck out her tongue in a grotesque expression at Chute to say she didn't care and ignored them.

"You'd want a little pointer about our girl here," Chute shrugged apologetically, wrinkling his nose, "she's kinda…" he made a motion around his ear to gesture that Sierra was a little gone in the head.

"Yeah…so I've heard," Draco confirmed with a nonchalant nod.

"This is why Thames always breathes down her neck," Chute continued. "When she gets all in this flurry, she doesn't bother to check her facts, doesn't stop to confirm sources, and you can't convince her otherwise either. If she's got a hunch about it, she won't let it go."

_Great_. Draco rolled his eyes. He sighed then looked around the room drearily. This was just what he needed right now. Crazy kooks. Ambiguous predictions. A threat to his life. And here he thought his engagement to Veronica was bad luck enough.

Chute was leaned against one of the podiums with a crystal ball, watching Draco with a curious quirk in his eyebrow. "You read?" he spoke up, gesturing to the crystal balls.

Draco recalled that nutter Madame Trelawney from Hogwarts with a sour taste in his mouth and he huffed haughtily. "Divination bores me," he drawled.

"On the contrary," Chute remarked, "fortune telling is a very intriguing aspect of the craft. Here I'll read for you. Perhaps we might be able to pick up on some of that omen crap she's all blatherin' about," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Thanks but no," Draco declined, still not completely buying into this Divination Central concept.

"Oh come on, just for the fun of it," Chute coaxed. "Some of us have stopped reading our own fortunes anyway," he told him as he stared into the crystal ball. "Got kind of boring to know what's going to happen next. But there was that time when we snuck a peek at the wager tables. Dox—he's another assistant here—he won two hundred dollars off a horse named Big Ben…" he trailed off as the smoke in the ball started to clear, "Here we go," he squinted into the ball. "Hm…" he creased his forehead after a moment.

Draco watched Chute, only slightly interested.

"Thames'll be here in a sec," Sierra finally looked up then made a face, groaning, when she saw what they were doing. "Oh come on, Chute. You can't read for shit," she reminded him then teased, "Step aside before you hurt yourself."

Chute didn't respond. He stared at the crystal ball, his face forming into an appalled expression crossed with disbelief and amusement. "Whoa…" he mumbled, his eyes widening.

"Whoa?" Sierra repeated curiously. "What is it?" she tried to peer around Draco.

"Whoa…" he said again. "Looks like the two of you two are—_whoa_…" he blinked into the crystal ball as if he were seeing things.

"What?"

"Looks like you two are going to get it off," he announced with a highly amused tone of voice.

"What!" Draco gawked, hearing wrong.

"That's ridiculous!" Sierra pushed Chute aside to see the crystal ball herself. She gasped, her eyes practically popping out of her head at what she saw. It was a vision of her and Malfoy together and her jaw dropped as she made an increasingly grotesque expression short of spewing. _Ugh! Gross!_

Draco noticed the severity of her reaction and sidled over to have a look for himself. He peered into the crystal ball and winced in horror, "God—" he almost choked, wrinkling his nose in more than distaste.

Then Sierra noticed Chute's hand underneath the table. He'd been manipulating the vision. She shot him a dirtier than dirt look. "Chute, you asshole," she smacked him in the back of the head.

"Ow—hey!" he complained, between guffaws. "I was just messing. You need to work on your sense of humor."

"Oh ha ha, very funny," she sneered at him then accidentally met Draco's gaze and shuddered with disgust.

Draco returned her _blecchh _with offense. "What? If you think I'd want to go snogging with a mudblood like you, you're out of your mind."

Chute snickered at the sides.

"Dammit Chute," Sierra said irritably, giving him a menacing look. "Why don't you quit translating your sick twisted fantasies to them fortunes and be useful for a change?"

"Hey, I'm just here to read," Chute raised his hands in resignation, still grinning amused.

Still a curl of disgust on her lips, Sierra took the crystal ball in her hands and shook it vigorously to clear the mocked up vision.

"Look W.B., you're paranoid," Chute pointed out. "There's nothing wrong with the pureblood. There's nothing to panic _about_."

"Unless of course _I'm _missing something," a deeply resonating voice remarked.

* * *

**Author's ramblings...**

_Et voila!_ There! I'm going to update soon. No, really I am. _Lolz_ again. Until then, _merci_ for reading! _Ciao!_ (_and this is me trying to sound French-Italian)_


	8. Take me to Your Leader

**  
Take me to your Leader**

Draco's eyes widened as a distinguished-looking robed man seemed to apparate into the room and Sierra and Chute both snapped to attention. _It had to be Thames_, he guessed.

"Sir," Sierra spoke up eagerly, "I have—"

Thames turned his gaze onto her and his mere expression quickly doused Sierra's mood not to mention shut her up instantly. But he didn't say anything to her. The wizard turned to the white-blond lad and donned an authoritative but regal look and Draco instantly understood how revered and skilled this man must be.

"Mr. Malfoy," Thames began cordially. "Apologies for the inconvenience this delay must have cost you. My students, spirited as they may seem, at times—or should I say most times," he amended mindfully, "do so lack the proper discipline. No matter how many times you attempt to instill such order."

Sierra was already wincing to one side, as she knew the comments were directed mainly to her. Chute, for sure, wasn't as headstrong a student as she was. He didn't get stuck in detention as often as Sierra did, cleaning out the owls' shitter boxes.

Draco addressed Thames in the same regal manner, knowing full well his place in society and certain that Thames, by virtue of _his _own place in society, knew exactly who Draco was. Only knowledge of the Malfoy name would merit such formality. "Thank you," he said haughtily. "Being an eager student once myself, I understand the passion that comes with learning. It's rather a pity that others don't understand the importance of discipline."

Sierra shot him a get-real look. _What a big ball of wax._ Thames couldn't be buying this load of crap, could he?

"The Divination Authority would like to send our best regards to your mother," Thames nodded curtly.

Now Sierra wanted to hiss in ridicule at Thames' behavior. _Kiss ass._ One would think the Malfoys were lining the pockets of the Divination Authority. Of course, diplomacy being at its best, Thames had to recognize the heir of one of the wealthiest families in Wiccadom. _Such hypocrisy,_ she rolled her eyes instead.

"She'll have it," Draco replied with a smug look on his face.

"We are sorry to have wasted your time," Thames said as if to end the conversation and bade Draco farewell. "But if you wish to stay there are plenty of new advancements we have developed in the community that might interest you—"

"But wait, sir," Sierra cut in, in protest, "we haven't even—"

Thames stiffened at her interruption then shot her another one of those intimidating I'm-the-mentor-you're-just-the-mentee looks. "Ms. Willowbrook," he began firmly, "there is a proper time and place for more of your fantastic half-baked theories. Such time is not now."

"B-but th-they're not—," she stammered, flushing deep red.

"Now if you'll please excuse me, I have other matters to attend to," Thames concluded before he bade a short, "Good day, Mr. Malfoy."

"What—_wait_!" Sierra exclaimed in dismay whirling around to argue her case some more.

But Thames had already disapparated.

"Tough luck eh?" Chute just shrugged, watching Sierra warily.

Sierra looked highly upset. She had an expression on her face, short of outrage and loud unspoken profanity, the degree of which should have burst out of her already but seemed to be reserving itself for a certain authority figure. She was also staring at the ground, breathing heavily, before she took off and was gone in a blink.

"Oh _effing_—" Chute spat and jumped quickly to go after Sierra.

"Where is _she _going?" Draco asked, even as he followed suit.

"To see Thames," Chute explained, pushing past the door.

"Uh…she just saw him," Draco pointed out, a slight confused.

"Not the real him, no," Chute relayed, walking briskly to catch up, "That was just a digital projection, you know, a hologram. Thames is actually at _Games & Craft_ seeing over some other official business malarkey that needs his actual presence. She wants to talk to him where he can't just poof away."

Draco creased his forehead at the outer room, which they had emerged into. It looked like they had portkeyed right into the Leaky Cauldron in London and several seemingly familiar characters were hanging around the bar. But he didn't have time to notice much as Chute was hurrying out the narrow door headed out to the streets of 12 ¾ Avenue.

"She's gone mental, she has. She's gonna get into trouble again," Chute muttered, shaking his head to himself as they crossed the street. "It's like she never learns," he said in ridicule to no one in particular. "You'd think landing detention at Hogwarts every other week wouldn't learn her a lesson or two."

Draco shot him a strange glance, swerving to avoid the stalled street sweeper on the side of the street, before looking up, as they got closer to the store with the hanging sign for _Games & Craft._

* * *

"Must we do this every time?" Thames asked with an exasperated tone. "You have no proof. You have no basis, no facts. You have _nothing_. I've personally gone over the texts again on this Three Omens you seem content to base all your theories on and it's nothing definitive. Now, you will stop this nonsense and discontinue bothering Mr. Malfoy, is that clear?" He was trying to get back to his work and unable to do so since Sierra was every which way he turned.

"But sir, I don't understand why you won't just hear me out," Sierra insisted. "The magical community is going to the crapper. All the chimneys are down. There are _Giants _and _Cornish Pixies_ stranded in the Melting Pot. Everything's on a freeze. Something's obviously wrong. We have to do something _now_!"

"Yes," Thames agreed. "We _are _doing something. At the moment, Julius needs all the help he can get at the library dismantling people and putting them back together. The Aurors are busy researching the chimney phenomenon and the sudden interference we've been having with electricity. We _are _doing something now, Ms. Willowbrook."

She creased her forehead frustratedly, ignoring the strange looks she was getting from the rest of the _Games & Craft_ staff who were bustling about in the background, trying to work amidst this disturbance. She knew they were probably working on some very important things, tasks vital to the problem at hand, and she just wanted to help—_was not leaving here_ until Thames hears her point.

"Sir, _come on_," Sierra coaxed expressively, lowering her voice a little barely above a hoarse whisper. "It really _doesn't _strike you as strange that _Draco Malfoy _is in New York? _Today_? It doesn't seem even the _least _bit strange to you?" she pressed. "Because—if you _really _think that this means nothing," she shrugged, as if resolutely, "if _you _think it isn't worth following up on…I'll drop it. Seriously."

Thames paused meaningfully before he answered, "No, Sierra," with a tone of finality.

Sierra's face fell again. "B-but he's a Malfoy! His _father_—"

"Ms. Willowbrook, this discussion is over," Thames cut in firmly, crossing the room as he paced, seeming disappointed. "I had hoped we'd gotten past these issues. The War is over. We simply must get used to the fact that we can't blame Lord Voldemort for everything that goes wrong anymore. This behavior simply won't do."

She sighed discontentedly, close to resignation.

"You will go back to those texts I assigned and try not to read too much between the lines," Thames instructed. "Sometimes solutions to problems are all spelled out and one need not look in complex places for answers." And with that, he turned and disappeared into an entryway to another part of the backroom.

* * *

**a/n:** Yap, and there it is. The next chapter. How is it so far? Would love a review if you could spare the time. Thanks a lot for reading! 

There's this one-shot I did last night inspired by the next chapter, hope you get to read it too. It's called **But He's a Malfoy**... Trying out my hand in other ships namely Draco/Hermione. Nah, it's a work in progress. Tell me what you think! Stick around, lots more to come! ;)


	9. But He's a Malfoy

**  
But He's a Malfoy**

Draco had arrived with Chute just in time to hear the '_But he's a Malfoy_' comment and he stiffened in his stance. Draco had never been ashamed of his name, of his inheritance. It was part of who he was. It _was_ who he was. But certain events had the tendency to change things.

Lucius Malfoy had been in Azkaban Prison for the better part of the decade since Harry Potter and the rest of the Aurors had fought back the Death Eaters to recession, and some to _extinction_, during the War of Light. Being a co-conspirator of Voldemort and one of the leaders of the Dark Army, his name was considered close to being you-know-who'd. The end of the War had found the Malfoys in an awkward position in the magical community. It had taken some time but while things had gotten better, Draco would still have to live with the fact that the controversial name will be his for all time. And he would have to keep his composure among the muggle-tolerant wizarding world.

Sierra passed the two on her way to the outer room wordlessly, only looking up briefly to shoot Draco a look he was very familiar with. It was the same kind of look every other witch had given him and his family when his father had been sentenced to Azkaban.

Disdain.

Sierra put up her hand to shut Chute up when he opened his mouth to say an obvious 'I-told-you-so'. "Don't even," she muttered dispirited.

Chute shrugged I-told-you-so-ly instead before he went into the backroom himself to talk to Thames.

She let out a sigh, still shaking her head to herself in annoyance, before glancing up at Draco briefly. "I don't suppose _you _believe me," she muttered in ridicule.

Draco paused for a moment as if to consider this but then averted his gaze uncaringly, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "How much longer is this dalliance going to take do you suppose?" he drawled.

Sierra made a face in disbelief. "Didn't you hear what we were talking about? This world is turning to shit! Did you come here by Floo?" she wanted to know. "'Cause if you did, you picked terrific timing. Now you're stuck here along with the rest of us," she threw up her hands exasperatedly. "Magic's on a down spiral and unfortunately, this sort of problem isn't as easily solved as 'I believe in fairies'," she sighed again.

Draco creased his forehead impatiently. "Look, I don't care if it's raining bloody fireballs outside, I just want to get back to bloody Park Avenue!"

This earned him another look of incredible disbelief from Sierra. "You are an _unbelievably_ _selfish_ British prat, do you know that?" she remarked, just as the bell above the front door of _Games & Craft _jangled as someone walked in.

They both glanced over and Sierra's expression brightened instantly with a surprised smile, "Jack!"

The guy met Sierra's gaze and smiled widely, "Hey Sier—," he stopped short upon seeing Draco and his expression turned instantly cold. "Oh my god, it's a Malfoy," he sneered in distaste.

Draco blinked off-guard. _Hey_. Great to finally be recognized.

"What the hell were you thinking bringing a Malfoy down here?" Jack demanded stalking up to them menacingly and eyeing Draco.

Jack and Draco were of the same height but the prim and proper blonde British aristocrat and the Hispanic tattered-leather-jacket-wearing street drifter were completely different in every other aspect, except maybe for distinctive good looks and the volatile temper which Jack certainly seemed intent to display right now.

But don't blame Jack. He has no last name. He was an orphan. He thought the acceptance letter to Hogwarts was a prank. But since Jack was a natural troublemaker, a predisposition rooted from his angst and general lack of parenting, the orphanage was more than anxious to give him away. Then after Hogwarts, since he couldn't attend college, he did odd jobs around London before deciding to portkey to America where he'd been living the past years as an illegal alien and working for the Divination Authority.

Draco met his heated gaze with a look of incredulity but didn't say anything.

"All right, all right," Sierra stepped between Jack and Draco as if to referee, "let it go, Jack," she told him pointedly. "I just came to see Thames. We'll be leaving soon."

"You tell Thames to lock this Death Eater up along with his father," Jack told her with conviction.

At that, Draco glared at him, his eyes turning cold steel. "Be careful," he warned him in a low threatening voice.

Sierra looked from one to the other cautiously. If they went at it right here, she for sure would not be able to stop them herself and she certainly could not risk leaving the two guys alone if she went for help.

Just then the bell above the door jangled again—with a different sound this time, as if of a buzzing alarm.

A muggle had come in.

Jack stopped short and collected himself rather than alarm the unaware muggle customer. He just shot Draco another dark look before turning to Sierra. "So what did you talk to Thames about? You look upset," he said, even as he glanced over at Draco every so often warily as if he posed a threat.

Sierra started to relay to him what she'd just told Thames, elaborating on how Thames wouldn't even hear her out, using some very colorful contemporary colloquial four-letter words.

Draco shook his head to himself in exasperation as he leaned against the counter. It was just one _circus_ after another. If he left it up to her, it might well take a bloody _century_ before he _ever_ gets out of here. He would have just left way earlier on too, that is if he knew he wouldn't just get lost in the city again. But as it was, whether he liked it or not, he needed the help of these annoying witches to get back to his life. To _normalcy_. Where they didn't need bloody muggle-alerting alarms.

He cast a disinterested look at the two who seemed deep in conversation as if they haven't seen each other for years and needed catching up. He noted Sierra's hand still holding Jack's arm in restraint as if he would suddenly decide to pounce on Draco. It seemed to him a familiar gesture. He looked from one to the other as they talked in hushed voices and guessed they must be a couple. He also noticed the stud earring glinting in Jack's left earlobe and rolled his eyes. _Was this guy for real?_

Sierra's voice increased in volume as if she intended Draco to hear what she was saying next _or_ she was trying to sell Jack on something. "We _could_ use his help around here," she was saying. "He knows a lot about the traditional ways of magic. Admit it, most of us here have been highly revolutionized and are pretty rusty with the way things used to be. That is if _you're_ interested," she shrugged glancing up at Draco expectantly.

Jack spoke up with a knowing sneer. "Of _course_ he's not interested. The only interest he's looking to protect is his own."

Draco's glare at him did not waver. "Sorry but I'm not as dedicated to this cause as your boyfriend there is," he jerked his chin in the direction of Jack with the same sneer.

"He's not my boyfriend," Sierra said exasperatedly. "Look, aren't you even the _least_ bit concerned? You know this affects all wizards and witches alike, here or abroad, traditional or progressive. It's the very nature of the new order. Recognizing that we all have to work together to sustain and protect magic in the changing world."

"Well then consider me a nonconformist," Draco muttered nonchalantly. "This doesn't concern me." He understood her point, he really did, but he didn't belong in this place around these nutters and the last thing he wanted to do was _stay longer_.

"'Course not," Jack remarked. "Because you'd love nothing more than to see these muggles tortured and disemboweled. Isn't that the Malfoy way?" he prompted with a dark malicious smirk.

Naturally, Draco's calm snapped. "_You_—!" he lunged at Jack intending to pummel him to the ground so hard the next angsty hoodlum would feel it.

"Oh god!" Sierra cried, her eyes popping out in surprise.

* * *

**a/n: **...and there is that chapter that inspired the whole one-shot i posted last week of the same title **But He's a Malfoy**. if you guys have time, hope you get to read that too, it's just a short one under the **D/Hr** ship. thanks for all those who've left reviews, totally appreciate it :) thanks for reading as always! ;) see ya later! 


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